(Note: Below is an edited version of a column Mackinac Center President Lawrence W. Reed wrote in December 2001 for his "Ideas and Consequences" column in The Freeman, the journal of the
Foundation for Economic Education.)

The older I get, and the more I learn from observing
politics, the more obvious it is that it’s no way to run a business — or almost
anything else, for that matter. The deficiencies, absurdities and perverse
incentives inherent in the political process are powerful enough to frustrate
anyone with the best and most altruistic of intentions. Politics frequently
exalts ignorance and panders to it. A few notable exceptions aside, it tends to
attract the most mediocre talent with motives that are questionable at best.

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Earlier this year, Max Kennedy, a son of Robert and Ethel
Kennedy, flirted with the idea of running for political office. A
story in the July 15 New York Times Magazine recounted his ill-fated
attempt at a stump speech riddled with trite one-liners like these: "I want to
fight for all of you … I’ll commit myself heart and soul to be the kind of
congressman who cares about you … I’ll dedicate myself to fighting for working
families to have a fair chance … I make you this one pledge: I will always be
there for you."

Kennedy’s handler pressed him repeatedly for a "take-away
message," something of substance that his audience would remember. "What do you
want people to take away from it?" he asked several different ways. The would-be
candidate stammered and couldn’t think of much other than "I’m a nice guy" until
finally he admitted, "I don’t know. Whatever it has to be."

Eligible for public office? Certainly, though in this case
his campaign was over before it really began, and he has presumably found useful
work elsewhere. Hundreds just like Max Kennedy get elected every year. But would
it ever occur to you to put someone like this in charge of your business?
Outside of politics, is there any other endeavor in which such nonsense is as
epidemic?

Welcome to the silly side of politics. It’s characterized
by no-speak, doublespeak, and stupid-speak, aimed at swaying minds without ever
educating them, and deceiving them if necessary. The serious side of politics
comes afterwards when the elected actually do something, even if — as is often
the case — it bears little resemblance to what they promised. It is serious
business in any case because that’s when coercion puts flesh on the rhetorical
bones. What makes a politician a politician and differentiates politics from all
other walks of life is that the politician’s words are backed up by his ability
to deploy legal force.

This is not a trivial point. After all, in the grand scheme
of life there are ultimately only two ways to get what you want or get others
that have hired you (or who depend on you) what they want. You can rely
on voluntary action (work, production, trade, persuasion and charity) or you can
swipe. Exemplars of voluntary action are Mother Theresa, Henry Ford, Bill Gates,
an author or the kid who delivers your newspaper. If you aren’t an elected or
appointed government official and you swipe something, you’re a thief. If you
are acting in the capacity of a government official and swipe something, you’re
"appropriating."

No generation ever grasped the meaning of this better than
that of America’s Founders. George Washington is credited with observing:
"Government is not reason. It is not eloquence. It is force. Like fire, it can
be a dangerous servant or a fearful master." In other words, even when
government does its job so well as to be a true "servant," it’s still
"dangerous."

Indeed, this point makes all the difference in the world.
Things that rely upon the regular affirmation of voluntary consent don’t look at
all like those that are forced. Whereas mutual consent encourages actual
results and accountability, the political process puts a higher premium on the
mere promise or claim of results and the shifting of blame to other parties.

To win or keep your patronage and support, a provider of
goods or services must manufacture something of real value. A business that
doesn’t produce or a charity that doesn’t meet a need will quickly disappear. To
get your vote, a politician only has to look or sound better than the next one,
even if both of them would renege on more pledges than they would keep. In the
free marketplace, a potential customer can say "No, Thanks," and take a walk. In
politics, the "customers" do not have that option.

Your vote in the marketplace counts for much more than your
vote in the polling booth. Cast your dollars for the item of your choice and
that’s what you get — nothing more and nothing less. Pull the lever for the
politician of your choice and most of the time, if you’re lucky, you’ll get some
of what you do want and much of what you don’t. And the votes of a special
interest lobby may ultimately cancel yours out.

These important distinctions between voluntary, civil
society and coercion-based government explain why in politics the Max
Kennedy-types are the rule rather than the exception. Say little or nothing, or
say silly things, or say one thing and do another — and your prospects of
success may only be enhanced. When the customers are captives, the seller may
just as easily be the one who whispers seductive nonsense in their ears as the
one who puts something real on their plates.

Like it or not, people judge private, voluntary activities
by a higher standard than they do public acts of the political process. That’s
all the more reason to keep politics a small and isolated corner of our lives.
We all have so many more productive things to which we should tend.

#####

Lawrence W. Reed is president of the Mackinac
Center, a research and educational institute headquartered in Midland, Mich.
Permission to reprint in whole or in part is hereby granted, provided that the
author and the Center are properly cited.